Found in the Moment
by PandaGirl2019
Summary: A companion to Lost in Consolation, describing some glimpses that take place a little while after the story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N : I wrote this right after finishing Lost in Consolation and I don't know if I'll ever go back and expand on any of it, but found I enjoyed briefly revisiting the story line. I feel like, after going through it, this kind of paved the way for the themes and ideas in Echoes of Affliction and Shadows of Healing.

Soda hid behind the tree in the front yard, clutching the snowball he'd created. He watched as Darry zipped up his coat, before beginning to make his way from the porch to the mailbox, the snow of winter crunching under his boots.

Darry was glancing down at the envelopes he planned on mailing when a cold ball of snow flew across the yard and hit him square in the face.

Soda dissolved into laughter, before Darry even had time to look in his direction.

Darry couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, even as he shouted, making sure to include his brother's middle name in an attempt to sound stern. "Sodapop Patrick!"

"The one and only!"

Darry finished his walk to the mailbox, placing the envelopes in it. He then headed over to his brother's hiding place and pulled him into a headlock, just as he saw his other brother come outside. "Hey, Pony come help me out here!"

Pony laughed and quickly made a snowball that he threw at Soda, who was giggling, while he tried to struggle out of the headlock.

"I'll get you for that later, Pony!" Soda yelled, as Darry released him.

"Oh, I'm counting on it!" Pony shouted back, as he walked away from the house, waving at his brothers.

Darry grinned at Soda. "Want some hot chocolate, little buddy?"

"Sounds good, Dar!"

* * *

Darry was putting pile of freshly folded laundry on Soda and Pony's bed, when he glanced at his middle brother. "How are you, little buddy?"

Soda rolled his eyes, though he did understand the frequent question.

"Your eyes are going to get stuck back there if you keep doing that."

"I'm okay, Darry. You don't have to ask everyday."

"But I do. Come on, you can't blame me."

Soda knew Darry was absolutely right. He'd had a tough time for a while, before he truly started to feel better. His big brother had every reason to ask questions. Even after Soda had gotten his long hidden emotions out in the open, their aftermath still existed, as did the effects of the way he'd tried to cope with everything that happened in too short of a time. He shot his brother a grin. "You're right. I don't. But I know what else you're really thinking about too."

"I knew you'd remember. I just don't want you to try to cope by yourself again."

The next day would be the first anniversary of their parents' car accident. Only a couple of months ago, Soda had still been struggling with the secret guilt he felt stemming from the fact that he would've been in the car with them if plans hadn't quickly changed.

Soda sighed. "Of course, I remember. But it isn't just hard for me. You and Pony miss them too."

"True. And I already talked to Pony. I just worry about you a little more these days, Soda."

"I know. I can't say I didn't give you a reason."

"Just don't forget you can come to me."

Soda knew this was Darry's indirect way of telling him not to hurt himself again. The last two months had found him in his brother's bedroom in the early morning hours several times, still seeking shelter from the waves of emotions and urges to harm himself that sometimes surfaced. Soda had slept much better since the conversation with Darry at the lake, but he still had rough nights. He had nightmares sometimes too. Once, he'd awakened to find Pony staring at him because he was sweating and calling for their mom and dad, having just been dreaming about the accident.

Soda nodded at Darry. "I know. I've never forgotten."

* * *

Soda felt the cold wind blow against his face, as he shivered against the cold air. He knew he should go back in to get a coat, but for some reason, the chill felt good on his skin.

Darry threw open the door, his voice loud. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis! Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe I have. I don't know."

"Don't be a smart ass! Just get in here!"

"You don't have to keep yelling, Darry. I'm coming." Soda ambled inside.

Darry pulled the door closed, the winter air no longer drifting into the warm house."It's freezing out there, Sodapop! What are you thinking going out without your coat on?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking. I'm fine. No harm done." Soda sat down and stared at the hot cocoa from earlier that had grown cold. He stirred it with his finger, watching the brown liquid swirl.

* * *

Soda's eyes opened and he groaned, knowing it was late. He hadn't been in bed more than a few hours. He glanced at Pony, who lay next to him sound asleep. Soda carefully sat up and stood, going to the kitchen. He filled a glass with water, realizing how thirsty he was, as he soaked in the feeling of the cool liquid on his dry throat.

Soda sat down on the couch in the living room, the softness of the cushions seeming to envelope him. He leaned his head back and listened to the sounds of silence that filled the house, as he closed his eyes.

He was beginning to find that if he could focus on the sounds and sensations that surrounded him, they helped immensely. It didn't matter if it was the feel of chilly air, the cooling touch of liquid, or the softness of the furniture, they all helped Soda grow calmer. Even just listening for the sounds of any kind of life in the dead of night silenced his mind at least a little.

Of course, this meant the comforting touches of his brothers and friends also was a source of solace for him. There were times when an embrace or a hand rubbing his back felt so healing to him. The sounds and touches of his surroundings gave him a place to let his mind wander more freely. Soda could soak in every bit of the world around him, letting only his physical senses have free reign. After some time, his emotions would follow their lead and allow tranquility to enter the scene.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N More of this is coming to me now :) So much for being a one-shot! More like a series of glimpses.

A flurry of snowflakes fell steadily, blanketing the Curtis' front yard in even more white. The powdery snow hid all the remnants of green grass underneath it, branches of trees also covered in the cold evidence of winter.

Soda didn't care about the glare the sun created, as it shone on the snow. Goosebumps spread across both of his arms, shivering both from the below freezing temperature and the misery found in today's date. He picked up a handful of snow, pressing his fingers into it, burrowing them into the cold until it almost hurt. He held the iciness to his cheek, creating another river of chills.

"What are you doing, man?"

Soda heard Steve's voice, felt his presence behind him, as he clenched his fist around the snow. He loosened his grip, the flakes slipping through his fingers, falling back to the ground.

Steve came to stand next to Soda. "It's like you haven't seen snow before."

"It's been a rough day in my head, Stevie."

"I know, buddy. I didn't forget today."

"I can't believe they've been gone a year, but at the same time, it feels like forever."

"I can dig that." Steve put his hand on Soda's shoulder. "I miss them too."

Soda nodded, hot tears glazing over his eyes.

"Hey, you know I'm here if you want to talk or anything, but damn, it's freezing out here." Steve let go of Soda's shoulder to rub his hands up and down his arms. "You look like you don't even feel it, but can we please go back inside?"

* * *

Darry stomped his feet on the mat in front of the door, shaking the snow from his brown boots. He entered the house, unzipping his coat, then pulling the boots off.

Not seeing either of his brothers, Darry hung up his coat, then went into the hall. He saw Pony and Soda's door was closed and raised a hand to knock, but paused when he heard his middle brother's voice.

"I do feel like doing it sometimes. I guess I can't help it. And today, I really do. But I didn't, I promise."

Darry's hand dropped to his side, but he didn't move away from the door. He knew, hearing Soda's tone and the tears in his voice, exactly what he was talking about. He also knew he shouldn't listen, that his brother wasn't talking to him, but he remained there, hearing Steve's voice next.

"It's all right, buddy. You don't even have to promise. Damn, even if you did do it again, it's not like I wouldn't still be right here. My ass would be right where it is now, making sure you talked about it."

Darry felt a hint of a smile cross his face, realizing he and Steve shared the same sentiment. He heard Soda's voice again, though this time, it sounded muffled.

"I know. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want you to think I'd lie if- I know I kind of did before because I tried to keep it a secret."

Darry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. As much as he wanted to believe Soda, he couldn't help doubting that his brother would come to him if he slipped. He heard Soda's voice once more, followed by Steve's.

"Sorry, I just-"

"No. If you need a hug, you just do. That's that. I'm not going to let go til you're okay. Shit, I can't just sit here and watch you hurting, buddy."

Darry felt a tug to knock and another to walk away. He knew he should, a pang of guilt going through him for listening to so much of what was definitely supposed to be a private conversation. But he wouldn't mention it to Soda. He would talk to him, but there was nothing he planned to ask now that he wouldn't have anyway.

* * *

Soda laid his head on his pillow, trying to breathe in the softness, as he sank into it. Yet, the only semi-coolness didn't seem like enough. He put his hands on his face, letting his fingers run down, creating invisible scratches. He gripped his hands tightly together, squeezing hard, fingernails leaving tiny arches on his skin.

Soda let out a sharp breath, as he sat up and dropped his head into his hands, his fingers now caught in soft strands of hair. A knock startled him, and he jumped, his heart beating, like he'd been caught in an offense of thought.

"It's just me, little buddy. You okay?"

Soda turned his head, allowing Darry's eyes to look into his own. "No."

Darry came fully into the room, sitting on Pony's side of the bed. He put his hand on Soda's back, rubbing circles. "Remember what I said."

Soda let his head fall to Darry's shoulder, resting it there, the strong presence of his big brother enveloping him. He closed his eyes, the material of Darry's shirt rubbing his cheek, the roughness of his unshaven face brushing against the top of his head.

Darry slid his arm all the way over both of Soda's shoulders, drawing him closer. "I know it's hard, but don't close up on me here, little buddy."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I feel like this is kind of different than what's here on this little series so far, but also liked how it turned out :) It also just seems to be a scene that stands alone.

On the three-tiered brown wooden shelf in the corner, untouched now for a year, sat Elaine Curtis' small collection of knick-knacks and figurines.

Soda stood in front of the shelf, but faced the Christmas tree that was blinking with tiny lights, a rainbow wrapping around it, among the other trinkets and bulbs that decorated the symbol of holiday cheer. He ran his fingers along one of the branches, the prickly green brushing over his hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, Soda caught a glimpse of his mom's rocking horse, the one he'd given her himself as a Christmas gift a few years prior. He turned and picked it up, then sat down on the red tree skirt. He held the white horse in his hands, feeling how the smoothness of it resembled that of porcelain. He set it down in his lap and traced his finger over the textured mane that curved and waved down until it met the horse's back, where lines of gold paint formed a saddle.

Soda stared at the black and white checkered pattern on the saddle, tracing the shiny gold that surrounded it, before his gaze drifted down to the horse's hooves. They sparkled with glitter, glue holding them to the now dusty rocker. He wiped the dust away. "Sorry, Mom," he mumbled.

Soda let his fingers touch, then move along the curling lines of gold that decorated the red curved rocker, before he stood up and set the horse back on the middle of the shelf. He pushed it gently, watching the small silver replica of a Christmas tree underneath the horse sway along with it.

The rocker carried the horse back and forth, swirls of red and gold, mixed with silver, dancing in front of Soda's eyes. He reached out and picked it up once again, just as tears were making the colors and glitter bleed into one another. He held onto the horse, going over to the table on the other side of the Christmas tree.

Soda set the rocking horse down carefully, then looked among the framed pictures displayed on the round table. He picked up the one of him with his mom, their faces so close they practically shared a smile within the rose red frame. He hugged the picture close to his chest, his arms resting against the velvet backing of the frame. He slowly let the picture lean back in his hold, so he could see both his own eyes and those of his mom.

Soda met his mom's gaze, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. He touched her face, his hand against the glass that held the picture within the frame. "I'm sorry, and I wish you were here." He held the picture tightly to his chest once more, tears still falling.

Soda dropped to his knees in front of the table, the rocking horse still where he'd left it. He lifted the picture from his chest, holding the edges of the frame, as he kissed the memory of his mom's face.

Soda slid the rocking horse over and set the picture right next to it, as he found himself looking at his own smile. He dropped his head, tears dripping onto his arms that rested in his lap. He closed his eyes, before wiping the tears away. As he opened them, he looked at the rocking horse and the picture one more time, before standing.

Soda turned around to see the Christmas tree, the lights still blinking. He reached out and touched one of the silky bulbs, tucking it into the branches, as he heard Pony's voice float into the room. "Hey, Soda, you'll never guess what I got for Darry!"


	4. Chapter 4

Soda opened the freezer and pulled out an ice tray. Snapping a few cubes of ice loose, he put two of them in a glass, then picked up a third one and held it in the center of his palm. He squeezed the ice, drops of water going down his arm, as he pressed it into his skin until the coldness made pain radiate into his elbow. He felt his hand and fingers begin to go numb, before he tossed the ice cube into the sink.

Soda looked at the palm of his hand, seeing how red it had become, then shook it, trying to get the numbness to cease. He tugged on the sleeves of his shirt, the material rubbing against his upper arms.

"Hey, Sodapop, have you seen my gloves? The green ones?" Pony's voice yelled.

Soda picked up his glass and started to fill it with water. "Yeah, Pone. They're in the kitchen. I saw them earlier."

Pony appeared in his coat, looking around. "Oh." He picked the gloves up off the counter and slid them onto his hands. "I know it's not exactly the best weather, but you want to come to the lot with me and toss a football around?"

Soda nodded. "Sure. And you know I don't care that it's cold."

* * *

Soda peeled his coat and gloves off, shaking the snow from them, the tiny flakes dropping onto the front porch. He felt the cold breeze on his skin, not minding when it made him shiver.

Pony stood next to him, the football under his arm, as he opened the front door. "Don't let Darry see you out here without that coat on."

"Aw, it's only for a minute." Soda grinned. "Besides, he ain't home yet."

"I'm going to put this ball away, then go see if I can find a book at the library that I'm supposed to be reading before school starts back up."

Soda watched Pony go inside, then opened the door himself, stomping his feet on the mat, before stepping inside the house. He hung up his coat, shoving his gloves into its pockets, before taking off his shoes.

Pony came back through the kitchen. "I'll be back in a little while."

Soda nodded, then heard the open and close of the front door, as he went toward a hallway closet. He opened it and looked up, finding a blanket.

He sat down on the couch, then unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around himself, the brown fur lined with white wool brushing against his arms and neck. He pulled it tighter to his body, his hands gripping the material, then laid his head down on the blanket that felt both soft and rough against his skin.

Soda tried to relax against the couch cushions, the blanket hugging him, creating a safe place to be. The fur and wool held tight to his skin, replacing the shivers from the cold winter air with warmth. He lifted the blanket higher, letting his cheek rub against the fur that rested around his shoulders, as he closed his eyes.

* * *

Soda pressed the cold blade of the razor to his arm and watched, almost transfixed, as blood started to seep from the newly made cut. He felt an eerie calmness come over him, a release that reminded him he was still real.

He still held the razor in his hand, a second cut formed and bleeding, when he heard Darry's voice. "Hey, Sodapop, where are you?"

Soda quickly put the razor back in the drawer next to the sink, then stared at the two shallow, straight cuts for a moment. "Just a second, Dar."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Dar. It was just there, and it was like I couldn't stop myself," Soda said, covering his face and letting his own tears soak his hands.

Darry let his eyes wander to the too fresh pair of cuts on Soda's arm. Even as his gaze couldn't be torn from them, he pulled his brother closer to hold him. "I'm not mad, Pepsi Cola."

"But I am." Soda tried to relax into the embrace, focus on the touch, but he could only feel the guilt over slipping. "I should've put it down, as soon as I even thought of it."

"Go easy on yourself, little buddy. You're telling me, aren't you?"

Soda leaned further into Darry, still able to feel the razor that had cut into his skin, bringing the releasing sting of pain and rise of control. "Yeah. I had to."

"This doesn't mean you have to keep doing it, Sodapop. It's not like before."

Soda could still see the blood, feel the adrenaline that had coursed through his body until the high made him crash headlong into shame. "I know."

"I love you."

Soda gripped Darry a little tighter, as he felt his brother's lips gently kiss the top of his head. He closed his eyes, trying to let the soothing touch bring a calmness that could rival the hold he knew even a single cut could have.

A/N This bunch of glimpses is a result of the fact that I needed a break from "Shadows." But I have to say I couldn't shy away from the reality that, with things like this, slipping is often a step in the process to recovery.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Shorter than usual little glimpse, but I liked how this one turned out, and it's another I feel is really important, given what occurred in the last chapter. Plus, I needed a bit of a break from Shadows!

Steve watched Soda reach for his shoes, noticing how his best friend's hands were shaking. He touched his arm. "Hey, I told you if you did cut again, my ass would still be right here, didn't I? I wasn't just saying that."

Soda held the shoes in his lap, twisting the laces around his fingers. "I know. But I'm fine now. It's over." He looked down at the healing cuts, the marks he'd been so drawn to make, yet now hated. "I just want- I just want to go."

"Okay." Steve waited, as Soda started to put his shoes on, attempting to tie the laces, his hands still shaking. "We can talk if you need to, you know. It's not different now."

Soda kicked the shoes off his feet and stood up, facing away from Steve, as he took a few steps forward, stopping to stand in the middle of his bedroom. "I wish I hadn't done it again. But I wasn't thinking about how I would feel later, just how it would feel to do it."

"So what happened? Is something bothering you now? You can tell me."

Soda gripped one hand with the other, his eyes on the new cuts again, as he realized he still wanted to do it. He wanted to form the lines, create a little control by making the pain visible. "No. Let's just go do whatever we're going to do." He traced a finger over one of the healing cuts he knew would soon be a scar that would fade over time. "I'm fine."

Steve kept his voice soft in gentle admonition. "Don't lie to me, Sodapop. It's me, buddy, and you're shaking like a damn leaf."

"I'm not lying. I just want this feeling to go away. I guess I just felt sad or something before, but now..." Soda shook his head, as he sat back down beside Steve.

"Now what? Come on, man, I want to listen here."

Soda felt Steve's hand on his back, as he met his friend's eyes. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I told you it's not different now."

"Cause cutting- it did work for a little bit. It wouldn't be so hard if it didn't."

"I kind of got that before, man, from what you'd say about feeling better."

Soda folded his hands together, pressing his fingers into the skin, an attempt to stop the trembling. "I still want to do it again, Steve. But it gets to me that I ever did it at all, and that makes me want to do it more, like I can somehow make that feeling go away."

Steve nodded. "That sounds hard, buddy. I get it. But you can get through it. I know you can."

"It just makes me feel so bad, so damn guilty." Soda covered the cuts he wished he hadn't made with his hand, wanting to no longer see the evidence of his slip that still triggered an urge so hard to defeat. He felt Steve slide one arm around him, followed by the other, drawing him into an embrace.

"It's okay. I got you, buddy."

Soda lifted a hand to touch his face and felt the moisture of tears, realizing he was crying, as he laid his head on his best friend's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Very short little moment here :) Quite fitting for the title of this series!

Soda stood in the shower, the hot water raining down on his skin and soaking his hair, rinsing the shampoo away. He looked at the soap that remained on his hands and arms, bubbles running over the still healing cuts he'd so recently made and over the older scars that were fading with the passage of time.

He put both arms directly under the spray of water, letting the shower wash away the soap, though it couldn't cleanse him of the slip or the impulse that beckoned him to cut again, just one more time. He stared at the soap bubbles that began to circle the drain, as he let the hot shower water hit his face. He saw the bubbles disappearing, as drops went down his cheeks and wet his eyelashes.

Soda leaned over and shut the water off, his wet hand turning the knob that would stop the shower from running any longer. He reached for the towel that hung on the rack just to the side of the bath tub. He wrapped it around his shoulders, as he pushed the curtain aside, hearing the rings slide the along the bar.

He felt the soft bath mat on the soles of his feet, as he stepped out of the tub, then rubbed the rough material of the towel through his hair and dabbed at his face. He secured the towel around his waist, before going forward to stand in front of the sink, cold bathroom tile touching his toes, even in the midst of the heat that remained from the recent shower.

Soda noticed the shaving cream beside the sink, the container next to the keeper of three toothbrushes. He put his hand to his face, the faint beginnings of stubble on his cheeks and chin. He ran his fingers over it, remembering the last time he'd held a razor. He let his hand drop to the sink, the cool edge of porcelain pressing into his skin.

Soda looked at the mirror, the steam still covering it. He could see his foggy image attempting to be reflected behind the heat-created haze. He touched the mirror, pushing his fingers against the glass and wiping away the vapor. He began to see himself, the fog still surrounding his reflection, but making a path for clarity.

Soda stared at the image before him, the one not marred by the mist of heat. He saw himself, Sodapop Patrick Curtis, a teenage boy with an identity that didn't only lie in his struggles with guilt or grief. He saw the slight smile on his face, his reflection serving as a reminder of who he was that went far beyond the turning pages of recovery.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: It's been so long since I've worked on this, I didn't even know if I could switch gears anymore! But I needed a break from Shadows, and I missed this one. Enjoy the little series of moments, and let me know what you think :) I might come back to some of these and add more.

Soda sat in the center of the back porch, the metal spinning top in front of him going around in perpetual circles. His eyes watched the circus train with its conductor and caged animals, yellow edges twisting into a blur.

He looked up form the childhood toy, the warmth of the sun hot on his bare arms. He heard a bird chirping, the tweeting sound a reminder of a new season.

Soda picked up the top, letting it turn over in his hands, the smooth metal designed with now chipping paint cool against his skin. He set it up on the ground of the porch, making sure it was steady, before he pushed it, making it spin once again.

* * *

Darry appeared in Soda's bedroom doorway, a tie around his neck. "Hey, little buddy, would you help me with this? You're better at it."

Soda stepped closer to Darry, eyeing the black pleated pants he wore and the gray button up collared shirt. "So you decided to go, huh?"

"I did. You and Pony don't have to, but I feel like I should. Dad would want me to, you know? Someone should go for him. Don was like a brother to him."

"Yeah." Soda touched the tie, the burgundy silk brushing against his fingers, as he made the knot. "Dar, I'm sorry. I don't want to be selfish, but-"

Darry held up a hand. "Stop right there. You're not selfish. It's fine, Pepsi Cola." He patted Soda's shoulder, before smoothing the tie over his chest.

"I just can't imagine going to a funeral."

"That's why I'm doing it. So you don't even have to think about it."

* * *

Soda walked along the path that he knew led to a patch of trees and grass, quite a bit away from the main part of the park. He picked a dandelion from the many among the weeds, then blew on it, scattering the seeds into the air, before throwing the stem back onto the ground.

When he came to a tree, Soda sat down beneath the branches that were blooming with green leaves and tiny purple flowers. He lie back on the ground, the grass almost tickling his skin, as it brushed over his face and arms.

He turned over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, as he picked at the grass with his fingers, the perfectly green blades easily separating from the land. Soda looked back up at the tree branches that were above his head and felt a single water droplet land on his face, before it traveled the same path as a tear.

* * *

Steve propped his feet up on the Curtis' coffee table after turning on the TV. "Man, the people who wrote this show ain't ever met my dad."

Soda saw the flashing pictures of an episode of "Father Knows Best," a familiar tug pulling at his heart. "Yeah. Guess not."

Steve softly slapped Soda's shoulder. "Hey, you okay, man?"

"Yeah. Sure." Soda traced the couch cushion with his fingers, the old brown and yellow plaid pattern rough beneath his touch. "I'm fine."

* * *

Pony tossed the sheets he'd just pulled from the laundry to Soda. "Darry washed these for you."

Soda wrapped his arms around the sheets, the newly clean scent drifting into his nose, as he pressed his face into them. "Thanks, Pone."

Pony watched his brother turn and rub his cheek against the sheets once more, before beginning to put them on the bed. "You want to go hang out somewhere later? I know I've been awful busy lately trying to get ready for track."

"I'd like that."

"Okay. We'll go grab a burger and just talk then. Sound good?"

* * *

Darry grumbled at his buddy, as he sat down on the porch swing beside Soda. "TwoBit, I swear, if you don't knock it off..."

TwoBit lifted up his hands in surrender. "What? I swear I'm not going to break anything. I just wanted-" He gestured with his arms, his elbow bumping into a glass on the edge of the porch railing.

Darry rolled his eyes, as the glass crashed to the concrete floor of the porch and shattered. "Yeah, right."

Soda stared at the sharp pieces of glass that were shining in the sunlight, the Pepsi the fragile container had held now a puddle on the hard floor.


End file.
